Prologue: Musings

Thedas - Year 9:29

The old woman stretches as she lingers in the doorway, grimacing at the stiffness of her joints and skin. Glancing to make sure her daughter still sleeps in the hut hidden deep in the wild forest, she sheds away the old hag guise. She's grown horribly bored of it and wonders if she will be able to change soon. But what to change to? An older guise like what she wears now or something younger...

Her now smooth hands brush against some papers hidden near the door, capturing her attention. Treaties from ages gone by, protected by her when their seals disappeared. She wonders if any even remember that they had ever existed. She wonders if they just disappeared from memory, as all things of the past do...

Frowning, she gathers magic into her palm, swirls it into a sphere, a window to the past so that she never forgets as others do.

(Hooded mages laughing in delight as their long and tedious ritual finally took hold, stepping into the Fade with bloody hands and feet into the hidden city. Laughter turned to tortured screams as they are twisted into blackened, tainted monsters, set loose again in the realm of the living to corrupt and destroy everything.)

She spins the image in the mage, rolling her eyes at the futile battles that swirled and disappeared into the magic sphere. She has no care for such things. Losses are never forgotten, or forgiven. She stops, however, when she sees a certain image blooming. One battle that did not end in futility. The battle that utterly changed the course of history.

(They appeared out of nowhere. Mages, rogues, warriors. Dwarves, elves, humans. None of them carrying of lineage or past as they came from the very skies, borne by beautifully fierce griffons, to give Thedas the miracle it desperately longed for. Those who took in shadows to battle shadows and guard the light. Those who stood at the boundary of both. The Grey Wardens.)

She watches for a time, smiling softly at their courage, before spinning the image again through history. Her smile disappears as she sees the same thing again and again and again. War, peace, and revolution. Life's endless waltz.

(The woman shrouded in myth, who toppled the greatest empire, burning at the stake. The ancient Inquistion signing the Nevarran Accord, allowing the formation of the Chantry, Templars, Seekers, and Circle. The second homeland of the Elves conquered despite their long struggles, forced into slavery that is not slavery or to wander without a home. The heroic elf who took command of the Wardens to slaughter the darkspawn into hiding, causing them to slip into obscurity. The long struggle with the horned Qunari in the northern lands. The triumphant cheer of battered, broken, but stubborn and prideful rebels as they finally topple their sun-marked oppressors.)

She stops the image suddenly at a more recent event, one she had not seen last she looked. She knows the warrior dressed in the armor of long gone assassins, a gift from the dragon-blooded king who made a promise to her long ago. The scamp of a thief who became the respected Commander of the Grey in this land of strength, freedom, and courage.

(He races for something. Faster and faster, hoping he isn't too late. But he slows upon coming to the cliff, face falling at the corpses scattered there. Many were strangers, young soldiers who hadn't known what attacked them. Others, however, were twisted monsters he knew better than he would like. He examines each of the corpses, disposes of those who thought to trick him into lowering his guard, and looks out over the darkening horizon. He closes his eyes as he realizes what that darkness means.)

So does she. "It is time."

(A young mage with fiery curls woken in the middle of the night by templars, terrified out of her mind, but stubbornly showing only confidence. A young mage with fiery curls wielding swords and spells in a style long thought lost to the conquests of old gods.)

"The dragons have returned from their ancient slumber."

(A young hunter of the fallen kingdom studying the histories and practices of his people, hoping to protect his people from the ravages of the depraved. A younger hunter of the fallen kingdom slipping out of the shadows to strike down the tainted dragon.)

"The shadows have risen from their hellish crypts."

(A young elf of the city gritting his teeth as he labors for a handful of coins, tricking the surrounding strangers that he is meek and weak. A young elf of the city rallying tired soldiers with a single war cry as they liberate a besieged capital.)

"The sparks of war have bloomed to foster bloodshed and betrayal."

(A young noble chatting with his twin sister with a false smile, both watching the assassin that tries to make his way to their precious king. A young noble defending fighting against the old hero of the River Dane, showing a mastery all never saw until far too late.)

"All points meet at the origin."

(The twin sister with poisoned arrows and keen sight standing before a crowd of angry and betrayed lords. The bastard prince, untried yet proud, encouraging both noble and commoner alike with unpracticed words. The wild apostate who holds a hidden heart and more secret motive as she begs her love to go through a ritual. The repentant singer who spins tales of grandeur of religion and history to bewitch and entertain. The alien general who finds himself trusting those he should consider nothing but trash. The undead healer stands tall as she advises and listens to the broken leaders who shoulder the world's burden. The feathered assassin protects his newfound friendships from those of his past who can never understand freedom. The fallen dwarf learning that he still has a modicum of pride and dignity left as he avenges his stoned house. The golem smiling at her old memories as she rallies crushes her enemies, leading the warfront just as she did centuries ago.)

"Thedas's end has begun."

Author's notes: Well, here we go again. I've one set of novelizations up; why NOT go with a second? *grumblegrumble* Okay, basics warnings. Four Wardens (human mage, human noble, city elf, dalish elf). No dwarf Wardens as I loathe Orzammar more than I like the origins. However, they will still appear in the story. Not using dog (as I noticed a bad habit of forgetting he existed), but a fifth OC to fill in the gap, twin to human noble Warden (biased for that origin as it was the first I'd ever beat the game with). Planned romances: Female!CouslandxAlistair (yes, I know, common as hell. I'm too attached to change it), MaharielxMorrigan, Male!CouslandxAmell, and TabrisxLeliana. First two are set in stone, it'll take some very good arguments to make me change the third at this point, but that last one is still iffy and might change depending on how the story progresses. Um… oh, right. The reason I'm even doing this, aside from challenge factors. I'm going to be playing with the canon a little more here. I'm not changing key events, of course, but… *shrug* basically, there will be a couple of things I wish had happened in game here, instead of the straighter novelization I'm doing in the Tales' Series.

With all that said… welcome to the Saga?